I’m standing in the heliport, looking in through the glass doors at the newest gadget I’ve asked George to buy… no scratch that out. Jetson’s are cartoons. I mean, that is just SO make-believe.

“Sarah,” I call out, seeming to talk to myself, since nobody else is in the house. “Pot roast tonight, with roast potatoes.” Pausing, I look at the picture in the magazine. “…and string beans, with a small salad on the side, and don’t forget the gravy. Oh, and biscuits, and my favorite dessert.” The answer comes from a disembodied voice, “Yes, Mrs. Sheriff. What time will dinner be?”

Sitting back in my computer chair, I sigh. Houses that do everything! Give me a whole robotic house, where food is cooked, dishes are done, vaccuuming, washing floors and dusting are taken care of while I’m out doing whatever.

The house of the future should be completely automated, and not only hears my commands, but responds, happily, because after all, it’s a robot. It doesn’t make faces like I do at the thought of having to prepare yet another meal. It doesn’t grumble at having to do the laundry, or any other activity of daily living chore.

My vision of a self cleaning house  – not at all like a self-cleaning oven, which, let’s face it, compounds the duty by having to throw the windows open, and remove everything stored in the oven to begin with – is fast ‘coming to a middle.’  I bought a robot vacuum some time last year.  She’s adorable: a little round disc, reminiscent of a flying saucer, though she stays earthbound, even when she nears the top of the stairs, since her sensors just know there’s “danger Will Robinson,” just a breath away. The downside is that it take as much time for me to clean her, as it does for her to vacuum this one floor of the house. Does that seem right to you?

And, truth be told, now I have the next, and more dreaded than the first chore, to contend with, but they just didn’t have the ‘virtual assistant’ whole house version ready to go when we bought the  computer office assistant. What would a cooking bot be like? I’d personally prefer a food replicator. You know, one of those Star Trek: TNG kinds, that look like a microwave, maybe even ‘act’ like one, but deliver a whole meal without my having to lift a finger.

You see my dilemma. Having to do anything remotely close to resembling chores just makes me tired. I think I must have failed my Stepford Wife training.